


Don't Say That

by Bandshe



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandshe/pseuds/Bandshe





	Don't Say That

You’re getting fed up with his attitude as of late. He’s becoming more entitled, treating those around you like shit.

Today was no different, well in fact it seems to be worst. You hear things hitting the walls and things breaking. You ball your hands into a fist and take off towards the living room. You expect there to be a frightened servant on their knees begging him to not fire them, apologizing whatever he wants to blame them for. The living room was in chaos. The painting that hung over the fireplace now on the floor, the canvas skewered by the fireplace poker. All those rare vases he spent months to locate, shattered on the ground.

“Rafe?”

“What?” He snaps at you.

You narrow your eyes and purse your lips. How dare he talk to you like that? You take a deep breath hoping to collect yourself before you too are throwing priceless artifacts around the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“Redecorating.”

“You’ve been on edge lately, what’s bothering you?” You cautiously walk towards him. He notices this and immediately relaxes his shoulders. He can never lose his temper with you, at least not like this.

“It seems every time I get closer to this thing I hit a goddamn wall.”

“How about you leave this one alone for a while?”

“If I leave it alone it’s another win for him.”

“Rafe, you’re not even going after the same thing he is, and it’s been years since his name has popped up.”

“Anything he’s looking for should be in my possession. He doesn’t deserve it, any of it.” He picks up a candle stick and throws it across the room.

That was it, that was the last straw. You’ve had enough of his childish behavior.

“I swear to God, Rafe, this shit has to stop! You’re acting like a fucking entitled, spoiled brat. You’re no different than all those other trust fund shits walking around with daddy’s money in their bank accounts. Tell me Rafe how much of your money is daddy’s, huh? Is it the majority? How many people did you have to pay to do your dirty work? How many people died on your fool’s errands?”

You see a look on his face you’ve never seen before, he was about to cry and not out of anger. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. You hear him sniffle.

“Don’t you say that… not you”

“What?” You’re still wound up.

“I expect it from my family, especially my dad, but…not you. You’re different, you’re supposed to love me, to understand me.”

“Rafe, I do love you. I’m just fucking tired of seeing you act like this. You’re treating everyone around you like shit. Have you ever considered that people have feelings?”

Aside from a few sniffles, Rafe remained quiet. “I’m…sorry.”

“A bit late, don’tcha think?”

“I don’t know. What do you want from me?” He looks up at you, his eyes red and swollen.

You sigh and struggle to say what you feel you must. “Rafe, I have to leave.”

“What?” He stands up immediately. “No. Please, I can change.”

“I’m sure you can, baby, but until then, I can’t stay here. You’re too volatile.”

“And you think that I’ll be better without you?!” He balls his hands into fists.

“Probably not, but you have to learn how to.”


End file.
